Ten | newtmas

fifty four

It's hard to describe the feeling of the world melting away because it sounds horribly cliché. But when it's Thomas, how else am I really supposed to explain it? Really, I couldn't be in a worse position. I'm breaking into a psychiatric ward, I just narrowly escaped being caught like four times, Chuck is down the hall risking his safety, and Thomas is lying here in solitary. Yet, looking at him right now, I forget all of that.

    I've almost forgotten to respond, but my expression changes into a cross between a smile and shock. "Tommy," I say, sitting up more as he does. "I—"

    "This can't be real," Thomas says. Hearing his voice again is enough to leave me in awe.

    I shake my head. "I'm here. I promise I am," I say. I'm almost frozen in a way. It feels like I'm trying not to scare off a deer, and if I make any sudden movements, this will all disappear.

    Thomas gets off of his bed. When he stands, he stumbles a little, and I grab onto his arms to steady him, Thomas holding onto me in return. He's warm—almost alarmingly so. He looks back up at me, and without thinking about it, we both wrap our arms around each other.

    I hug him tighter than I've ever hugged another person before, and he does the same like we're solidifying the realness of each other's presence. I'm taking shaky breaths into his shoulder, and I feel like I'm a moment from just completely falling apart. But he keeps me there. I'm with him.

    When we pull back, we both seem to examine each other as best we can in the bad light, still half embracing. It suddenly seems impossible that I went a single day without seeing him, let alone a month. I've got no clue how I did it, but I never want to again.

    "H-how? How are you here?" Thomas asks. His voice is small—almost hoarse, too.

    "It's a long story," I say. My entire reason for being here momentarily slipped my mind. "But I need your help."

    Thomas listens, then after a moment or two, nods. "Okay," he says.

    Chuck's yelling has become faint, so I think we're still good. "We have to move fast," I say, although staying here with him also sounds like a great option.

    Thomas nods again, and I walk over to the door, looking out the window. Nobody is in the hall. He walks up behind me, and I instinctively take his hand. In the light from the window now, I look back to see a small smile on his lips.

    I open the door with my other hand, and the two of us run back to the hall I came from. My whole body is in a state of shock, so everything I'm doing is nearly mindless like I'm on auto-pilot. I'm not scared anymore, really. Thomas is here. The only thing I'm scared for is him, and what would happen if he was caught.

    As we turn the corner, I hear Chuck's voice getting closer. "Fine, I'm fine," he's yelling.

    Thomas stops, turning his head to look down the hallway, but I squeeze his hand to get his attention. When he looks at me, I shake my head, hoping he'll understand. As much as I'd also like to, we can't go help Chuck.

    I'm relieved when Thomas continues forward with me towards the door because now I hear footsteps approaching, and if anyone sees us, we're finished. I don't think I've ever moved faster than when I get to the end of the hall again and open the door, and it's a good thing I'm not doing my tens anymore. This wouldn't be possible.

    I don't turn back until we're inside with the door closed behind us. There's blood pounding in my ears, and there's so much adrenaline coursing through me that I'm convinced I could pick up a car if I wanted to.